


There's an App for That?

by Trista_zevkia



Series: Platonic [23]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Superman/Batman (Comics), World's Finest (Comics)
Genre: Batmobile, Car Sex, Edgeplay, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pink Kryptonite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 14:00:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7271164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trista_zevkia/pseuds/Trista_zevkia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dusty rose kryptonite, the expansive surface of the crawler, and a super powered alien who thinks Bruce won't torture him.<br/>Batman knows many definitions of torture.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's an App for That?

“Bruce, do you know it’s been six weeks since we had sex?”

Bruce didn’t startle at the unexpected voice, but he did pause in what he was doing. Minor adjustments to the crawler shouldn’t involve reminders of sex with Clark. “Remind me to cancel the project at W.E. to develop that app.” 

“What app?” Came a confused voice behind him, but Bruce didn’t look up from the engine he was almost diving into, head first. 

“The ‘last time we had sex’ app. I can’t imagine it’ll be very popular.” 

“I’m trying to make a serious point here.” 

“What? That you like being thrust into situations that result in even more thrusting?” 

“No, that we have sex in the line of duty.” 

“I kind of knew that.” Bruce felt he really shouldn’t have to point that out, as he was there when they had sex. 

“At first, I thought it was weird. Now…” 

“Now, you’d better not be about to say you think it’s the universe thrusting us together.” 

“Fine, take all the fun out of it.” Clark sounded upset. 

Clark sounded honestly grumpy that Bruce had intersected his point. Bruce pulled his head out of the weapons system on the crawler, to look at Clark. Clark and his large bouquet of flowers. 

“What are those?” 

“The florist called them the lovers mix.” 

Adjusting so he sat on the bumper of the car, Bruce gestured to Clark. “Come here, Clark.” 

Clark grinned as he moved up to stand between Bruce’s legs, arms settling on Bruce’s waist as Bruce brought up a small flashlight. He was in sweats for routine maintenance in the cave, because most caves stayed at about 53 degrees. But even his greasy sweats had pockets, so he was always ready. 

“Pupils are fixed and dilated. You’re high as a kite on something.” 

“No! I was fighting, what’s his name, and he shot me with this rock he thought was kryptonite. It didn’t even affect me, so I tossed him to the cops.” 

“And stopped to buy me flowers before coming to the cave.” 

“So?” 

“So that’s not protocol for after a fight. Did you even make sure the guy got to prison?” 

“I’m horny, not stupid.” Clark displayed an hitherto unknown amount of petulance with that statement. 

“Right. What color was this rock?” 

“Pink, I mean, seriously? How did Bloodsport think a pink rock would hurt me when he only shot me in the thigh with it? I was able to beat him up with it still in there, and then pull it out while we waited for the cops.” 

“Clark, let me see this rock.” 

“So you think this might be kryptonite?” 

“Go get the rock and I’ll find out.” 

“I have the rock.” 

Bruce didn’t care for the way Clark said that, not at all. “Give it here.” 

“No.” 

“No? It might be kryptonite, and it might be drugging you.” 

“I want you to come get it.” 

“I don’t know where your pockets are in that outfit.” 

“No pockets, just a pouch.” Said with suggestive eyebrows, and Bruce didn’t need to be a detective to figure out what it meant. 

“You stuck a rock in your underwear, and you expect me to believe the rock is not effecting you?” 

“The pain of it jabbing into me was the only thing that kept me from having to compensate for an erection on the flight over here.” 

“Always a good sign you’re not effected by anything.” 

“Come on Bruce, come save me from myself. You know it turns you on to do that.” 

Maybe, a little, but Bruce wasn’t about to admit to that. Either way, going along with Clark’s plan would get the rock out of Clark’s possession. And, maybe, some tiny part of Bruce would enjoy resetting that app. 

“Trade the flowers for lube.” 

Clark sped off, dropping the flowers off in the medical sink and picking up a tube of medical grade lube, and then he was back, standing between Bruce’s legs. Hoping Clark had thought he would hide the rock with the flowers and Bruce wouldn’t suspect, Bruce pulled Clark in for a kiss. The longer Clark was away from the rock, if he’d put it in the medical bay, the less it would affect him. That was absolutely the only reason Bruce set about trying to make Clark come from kissing alone. When saving the world with sex, they never really had the chance to enjoy it. 

The car needed some work, but Clark wanted to test the suspension. He was pulling Bruce out of his clothes, breaking the kiss for only a brief second as he speed the shirt off. His clothes came off without breaking their liplock, and Bruce wasn’t sure where the rock was, but it wasn’t preventing Clark’s erection any longer. Clark eased Bruce down to the hood of the crawler, only for Bruce to arch away from the cold surface. This broke the kiss and made Clark blink at him twice before he understood. 

A quick hug-and-roll had naked Clark spread on the hood, and he looked really good there, so Bruce pulled back to look. He looked good in anything, but was especially appealing when surrounded by Bruce’s things. Basic black; Clark looked good in basic black. Leaning forward put Bruce at just the right angle to suck on a nipple, twisting the other in his hand as Clark made encouraging noises. 

When Clark started pushing on his shoulders, hinting that Bruce move on, Bruce switched hand and mouth. The right nipple that had been subject to hand motions got bit, nice and hard. That move had Clark recreating the move Bruce had made when he came in contact with the cold hood. 

As Clark rested back on the hood, Bruce trailed downward, alternating licks with blowing air across the skin. When he got to Clark’s cock and the pool of pre-come on his car hood, Bruce avoided it. He moved down Clark’s right thigh, while Clark whined at the tease. Clark’s leg tried to curl when Bruce licked and blew on it, but Clark kept it from damaging Bruce. A kiss at the back of the left kneed, and Bruce was moving up that thigh. When Clark’s entire body was tense, ready and waiting for the mouth hovering just over his cock, Bruce looked at his face. 

“Where is the rock?” 

Clark groaned and thunked his head down. “I don’t tell teasers.” 

Bruce gave a small shrug, not having expected much different, and started licking and blowing from the head to the root. Bruce was observing as he went, as always, so he was able to see the signs of Clark’s upcoming release. Just when his balls started to draw up, Bruce stopped, and waited for Clark to realize this. 

“What? Please Bruce, I’m so close.” Clark began to babble, and Bruce waited him out. “I promise I will give you the rock as soon as I finish.” 

Not really liking that answer, Bruce pushed Clark’s knees up to his chest and started rimming him out. Clark was clean, of human diseases and the natural effect of digestion. Bruce wondered if he was always prepared for this anymore, or if it was some side effect from routinely dropping into the ocean from space. Didn’t matter anyway, not when Clark was holding his legs open, so he couldn’t touch himself, and Bruce was slicking up a finger. 

When Clark got too close to completion, Bruce replaced his tongue with that finger. Clark dropped his legs to reach for his cock, only to find Bruce’s other hand holding him at the base. Clark glared at Bruce, and Bruce was mildly impressed by that glare; it seemed Superman was learning from Batman after all. But, the master was still the master, and the student gave in first. 

“I put the rock in the tread of the passenger side tire before I even spoke to you. It didn’t make me horny, red does that, I could only think of you, and getting your attention, so I think it’s like school kid crush kryptonite, so it can be put away later, please fuck me.” 

“Was that so difficult?” Bruce asked in a deceptively calm voice that didn’t match the frantic way he was rubbing at Clark’s prostate. He stopped holding the base of Clark’s cock so he could work fingers into Clark, loosening him up, but kept stimulating the prostate. 

Clark howled when he came. 

Bruce decided Clark’s semen had started arching back to earth at about fifteen feet. Instead of thinking if he could turn edging Superman into a weapon, Bruce pushed his dick into a very relaxed Clark. Bruce took his time, slow and even slides, and waited for Clark to get hard again before he played with his dick. When Clark came again, Bruce was only a few thrusts behind him. 

Collapsing on Clark and staying there until he shivered sounded like a good idea, but Bruce couldn’t. Regretfully, he pulled out of Clark as soon as he could stand to do so. Then, he fished the rock out of the tire, a soft, rose pink color to it, and secured it in the vault. Then a shower, where he was joined by an attentive Clark, who insisted on washing Bruce down. 

Bruce snorted and told him to wash the car instead, but let Clark have his way. For reasons. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

They’d emerged from the shower, in clothes Bruce kept near the shower, and Alfred invited Clark to supper. Bruce complained about going upstairs to eat when he had work to do, but he there he was. Sitting cattycorner with Clark at the small table in the breakfast nook. A rather intimate setting, especially since they were alone, and Alfred had refused to join them. Clark made sure their knees stayed in contact, even as he considered putting his left hand on Bruce’s right thigh. It was a good thigh, nice and strong, but Alfred’s meals deserved two hands too. Maybe for dessert, Clark would try and distract Bruce. 

“I’ve noticed Alfred sits my dates according to how he feels about our long-term chances.” Bruce mentioned at a natural lull in the conversation. 

Clark grinned, amused and curious. “Oh?” 

“Superficial dates, for cover, get sat as far from me as it is polite to do so. Dates he disapproves of, such as Talia au Ghul, are set outside the limits of politeness. Selena Kyle got put across from me.” 

“So, if we extrapolate from that, Alfred thought you and Selena had a chance.” Clark nodded as if he was thinking deeply about that. “Yet here I sit. If I were any closer I’d be sitting in your lap, though Alfred might not have thought it was polite to just come out and tell me to sit there.” 

“He does know that I trust you to stop me.” 

“The basis of so many seating arraignments.” Clark tried to sound knowledgeable, but he was pulling back the thoughts about sitting in Bruce’s lap while they ate. 

“You know what I mean.” 

“Maybe, but I do like words. Reporter you know.” That and Bruce always meant more than he said, unless he was forced to be specific. 

“Fine, I’ll go on the record.” Bruce cleared his throat before looking Clark in the eye. “I, being of as sound a mind and body as I get, do hereby declare that I expect you to stop me if I ever go evil. If I am compromised, you have a free reign to do to my body or mind whatever is necessary to fix it, except kill an innocent.” 

Clark leaned forward and kissed him, sealing a pact. When he pulled back, Bruce looked like he was about to fake a bat-signal to end the conversation, so Clark went for a joke. 

“What if we’re both compromised at the same time?” 

Bruce considered for a moment and shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to count on Alfred saving us with a cold shower.” 

Clark got a mental image of Alfred kicking down a door on the Watchtower, firehose in his hands, and squirting down the compromised JL. Clark laughed, and Bruce joined him. Bruce’s laugh was a rare thing, but this was a little looser than Clark was used to. Clark was wondering if it could be considered Bruce’s giggle when a door opened, showing a confused Dick. There was something under his right arm that looked an awful lot like a hose, the end drooping when he realized just who was giggling in the breakfast nook. 

Clark laughed, even as he realized it was just Dick’s weapon, his extendable Eskrima stick. 

Dick pointed downward, waved bye, and left without a word. 

This time, Bruce did manage a giggle. 

sB _Sb_ Bs

**Author's Note:**

> [Buy Me a Coffee?](https://ko-fi.com/W7W35853)


End file.
